Not So Special
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: The Dominion Special Forces were expected to be the best of the best. So how would you feel if a bunch of ill-disciplined mercs did better than you?


**Not So Special**

When she walked into the command post, Nova adjusted her suit's temperature setting to account for the increase in heat.

It was one more absurdity in a universe full of them. Minutes ago, the temperature gauge had been the other way. Kaldir was an ice moon, which meant a lot of snow, frost, frozen snot, and shivering. Hours ago, she and a Dominion Special Forces unit had operated alongside the Dominion Marine Corps to down protoss shuttles guarded by zerg, for the sake of another group of protoss light-years away. War made for strange bedfellows, as the saying went, and that saying had been validated. Terrans, fighting zerg, to destroy protoss technology, further guarded by monstrosities that combined the worst of those two races, all in the service of a being that, as far as she'd been able to figure out, was another type of alien being entirely. When the last of those shuttles had gone down, when the last of the zerg had been put out of their misery, when the last of those… _hybrid_ , had been put to the torch, she'd felt cold, even as her suit continued to operate at full capacity. The sight of the dead and dying, succumbing to everything from wounds to frostbite…it had hit her. Far more than she would have thought possible at this point.

So now she was in the command post. Some smartarse had made the realization that Kaldir was fekking cold, so had decided to turn the building into a blast furnace. Even now, with her suit's cooling system cranked up to eleven, the sweat remained on the back of her neck. Her greasy hair mixing with it as readily as the blood that still caked her face. She wasn't even sure how it had got on there, since she'd taken out the enemy from range, but somehow, it had managed. Zerg, human, she couldn't tell. None of it hybrid though. She hadn't got close enough to those monsters to let that happen. Even as dozens of others hadn't been so lucky.

 _And some others did get lucky. Didn't you?_

She kept walking. Up the stairs to the second level. Past the grunts clad in CMC armour that looked like robots. Past the second pair of grunts that tried to stop her from entering the commander's office, but stopped short when she shot them a look. She doubted they knew anything about her beyond being a Ghost, and the leader of the DSF unit here on this world, but that was enough to get the marines to stand aside. The door hissed open, she walked in.

 _There you are._

And found Commander James Raynor at his desk, drinking out of an aluminium can. **FIREBOMB** was written on the side.

"Nova," Raynor said.

"Commander."

He took a sip of the beer and put it aside. "What can I do for you?"

 _A lot._ She took a seat opposite the commander – she'd worked for people worse than James Raynor. Killed men even worse than those incompetents. Nonetheless, she couldn't help but scowl, nodding at the **FIREBOMB**. "Not interrupting you I hope?"

 _And how's the beer?_

"Beer tastes like crap," he said. "But right now I'm in that safe-space between one battle, and shipping out to find the next, so if you want to talk, now's the time."

 _How did you…_ She shook it off. Raynor wasn't a telepath. Just intuitive. And regulations aside, she decided not to read the commander's mind. She'd done that once before, a year ago, before having him shipped off to the _Moros_. She didn't have any particular desire to return. With men like Raynor, what you saw was what you got.

"I need to talk about the Heaven's Devils unit," she said.

There was a flicker in Raynor's eyes. Slight, barely noticeable, but there. She resisted the urge to teep him, and carried on. "They're a problem."

"Go on," said Raynor slowly.

Nova paused, wondering how best to proceed. She could tell that this was a sore spot for the commander, but-

"They're a problem," she repeated.

But she wasn't here to put Raynor's feelings at ease. She was here to do her job. Even if she was having trouble articulating.

"How?"

"They're out of control," she said.

"In what way?"

Was he really going to drag this out of her? "They're not coordinating with any of our forces," she said. "There were two shuttles my team and I had eyes on, and they broke cover early each time."

Raynor didn't say anything. He just sat there, drumming his fingers along the desk. His eyes not meeting hers.

"But you knew, didn't you?" she continued.

"Think there's a regulation against that," Raynor murmured.

"I'm not teeping you Commander. I'm pointing out that relying on a mercenary unit that isn't integrating with Dominion forces isn't doing us any wonders."

"And I can point out that they've got a higher kill count than even your unit."

She leant back in the chair, folding her hands – conversations didn't usually last this long in her experience. Usually meeting with people of higher rank consisted of "here's your mission, now go do it."

"You can point that out," Nova said. "And I can point out that might not last. They triggered two early engagements, and soldiers have died because of them."

"Debatable."

She sighed, closing her eyes – partly out of frustration, partly because of the rising need to find a bed and sleep for a week. "I'm not here to debate Commander."

"Then why are you here?"

He was still being defensive. She opened her eyes and leant forward. "I know you ordered the formation of the Heaven's Devils. I know you assigned Corporal Miles Lewis to join them as some kind of exercise in integration. And I know that Heaven's Devils was the name of your old squad back in the Guild Wars." She paused, letting Raynor's silence do the talking. "Some records don't disappear Commander. And you'd be surprised what the archives of the Ghost Academy give me access to."

Raynor still remained silent. She reflected that she'd probably said more words than him in the last few minutes, and if that was the case, that would have to be a first.

"I'll sort it out," he said eventually. She didn't say anything, so he continued. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"As a commander for the Dominion? I suppose."

"You _suppose_?"

"I'm not blind to the circumstances of you, Valerian Mengsk, and Matthew Horner getting the positions that you did."

He leant back in his chair. "Does that bother you?"

 _Yes._

"Bearing in mind that Mengsk got to where he did on the blood of millions," the commander continued. "And that if Arcturus Mengsk was calling the shots, neither of us would be here."

"You certainly wouldn't."

"And neither would you," Raynor said. "Because you'd be fighting a war, alone, without relying on anyone for help."

That was true, Nova supposed. It was too early to judge Valerian as commander and emperor. But she'd known his father well enough to understand that if Arcturus Mengsk had been emperor when Moebius Corps had attacked Korhal, and when the Daelaam had come afterwards…well, things would be different. How different, she couldn't say. But different.

"Alright," Nova said, getting to her feet. "I've said my piece."

Raynor didn't say anything. He just sat there, watching her. Watching her stand, watching her salute, watching her head for the door, before pausing and looking over her shoulder.

"Why Heaven's Devils?" she asked.

"What?"

"Why Heaven's Devils?" she repeated. "I'd have thought you wouldn't want a merc unit named after the one that Tychus Findlay was part of."

"What does Tychus have to do with anything?"

"Maybe nothing," she murmured. She remained silent for a moment, the two of them standing and sitting there. A storm was blowing outside, but here, they were in the eye of it. In peace. For now.

"Do you miss him?" Nova asked.

"What?"

"Tychus Findlay. Do you miss him?"

He remained silent.

"I don't miss anyone," she said, tapping her brain. "Mind wipes and all that. Days, a week from now, I might not even remember this conversation."

"If you think that means I'm going to answer you, forget it." He got to his feet. "Now get out."

"…yes, Commander."

She obliged. She'd said what she'd had to, and got far more out of this conversation than she'd anticipated. Enough to pass information on to Special Forces. To alleviate their concerns that a merc unit was outperforming them. That hopefully, Commander Raynor would keep things in line. Because that, coupled with Admiral Horner working with Mira Han…well, even now, politics remained politics. The threat of annihilation didn't change that.

Her mission complete, she headed back down to the first level of the command post before heading out into the snow. Turning the temperature gauge the other way. Headed for the landing pads with a special ops dropship waiting for her. The one that would take her and her team into orbit for her next mission.

There was always another mission.

* * *

 _A/N_

 _Idea for this came from the reveal of Tychus as a co-op commander and him leading a new Heaven's Devils unit._

 _To be honest, I'm mixed about it, from both a gameplay and lore standpoint. In regards to the latter, while I like the idea of a new HD unit (because callbacks are fun), Tychus returning? Not so much. Yeah, it's a what if? scenario, but that's kind of my point. While Co-op Missions isn't technically canon, most of it can still fit into canon. Tychus returning can't (or at least doesn't). So while it would be impractical, I'd have preferred someone else leading the Devils so that they could easily fit into the overall story._

 _On the gameplay side, they look fun, but it feels like some overlap with Nova, since both rely on a small group of elite units, only the Devils are, like, more elite, y'know. Or something._

 _Anyway, drabbled this up._


End file.
